I hope everyone enjoyed their Independence Day celebrations. For me, it wasn't the most productive day in the world (still working on getting back into the swing on that), but it was fun. Heck, this entire post could pretty much be me talking about the holiday weekend, since that's been the majority of the time that's passed since I last checked in.
I love where I live. It's a trite thing to say perhaps, but it's something that rings very true to me. I grew up in the suburbs, the place they point to in the Midwest when they talk about White Flight and the 'burbs. But I don't feel like I really ever fit. I've talked before about how I dislike driving and got my license late; it's nice living in a place where that's not an option that's crippling. In a lot of ways, it's kind of liberating.
There are amazing concerts just around the corner from me, I can walk to my local grocer (and bike to the larger local grocery for bulk stuff).
And I can walk to find an amazing place to sit and watch fireworks with the woman I love. Right next to the main library branch in the city is an open pavilion with a number of picnic tables and benches. And it gives an amazing view of the fireworks, you're so close you can feel the explosion. This is the second year in a row that I've been able to take in the 4th this way, and it's great.
This weekend also brought back another old habit that I haven't seen from myself in a really long time: just going. It had been a feature of my childhood, when I used to just leave the house during the summer and walk for hours, heading through a park or someplace just for the sake of moving. It's not exactly rigorous exercise (though pack on enough miles and you do feel it), but it's a nice way of "being nowhere."
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